Poetry, Drabbles & More
by Skyress1
Summary: This contains poems, drabbles and much more from all sorts of fandoms. Written mostly because that idea just comes into my mind, however, feel free to suggest ideas. Warning: May contain depictions of violence, gore, character death, cussing and romance, depending on the chapter. Please read warnings at the top of each chapter.
1. Jack Frost - Rise of the Guardians

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 **Poetry, Drabbles and More**

 **Part 1**

 **Jack Frost - Rise of the Guardians**

Pairing: Yes, Jack and Jamie. If you don't like Male/Male relationships, don't read this chapter. The others should be fine...

Theme: Tragedy

Warning: Minor cussing.

 **O=C=O**

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 **Fading**

 _They dance and they twirl,_

 _in the sky, they prance merrily with the wind,_

 _they fall,_

 _gracefull sink,_

 _down to the ground, they drop._

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 _In the cold winter's night,_

 _the night of Frost,_

 _they appear,_

 _before slowly getting lost_

 _in the blizzards and ice_

 _in the cold and the dark._

 _._

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 _Each beautiful little snowflake,_

 _a uniquely thought out_

 _creation of winter's maker._

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 _Jackson Overland Frost._

 **O=C=O**

He gasped, looking down at the ground.

Too late.

Out of time.

There was nothing, nothing left. Soon, he too would be gone.

Was this it? The end? He hoped not. Yet, as the suns rays stretched out across the horizon and the white carpet beneath his feet slowly turned in to wet, cold sludge, tainted with a sickly brown colour, he knew that this was it.

Winter was over.

Closing his eyes, he grasped his staff tighter, reciprocating that tightness which had coiled up inside his stomach, causing him such great discomfort. 'No, this can't be,' he protested. 'I need more time!'

The merciless, newly fledged heat surging from the sun slowly seeped up to his feet. It sank into his flesh. Weighed down his body. He breathed in. Breathed out. Shallowly. Panic rose inside his heart, begging to escape, pushing his chest in an attempt to flee this hellish constriction. This cold prison. Jack needed more time! He needed to see Jamie. He needed time to tell him.

To tell him how much he cared. He always had.

Crystalline tears formed at the corners of his eyes, slipping down his cheek in translucent ribbons. They left moist trails behind them. And as he reached out to conceal their existence, he knew they would turn his cheeks red too.

 _Too late._

 _You're out of time._

 _Shoo now._

He swallowed thickly, breathing in again. Sharply. He should have told him whilst he still had the time.

'I am a coward,' he cursed himself, his grip tightening.

Jamie would never know now. Never understand. He was far, far too late now. As winter parted to leave spring the new king, he knew that this goodbye would be his last. Once and for all. The realisation, the knowledge, that accursed piece of wisdom... it didn't allow him to rest. He had to leave Burgess. Immediately. He was fully aware of the punishment that came for overstepping the boundaries. A seasonal spirit had no business outwith his or her season. Not within the temperate, or seasonal zone on Earth. He would have to go to one of the Poles. Or the mountains. If only so that he wouldn't be tempted to conjure up a minor snow-storm in the middle of April.

Still, he ought to at least leave a message for Jamie.

And he did. He'd arranged it with Baby Tooth, as a last resort.

Jamie sat on his bed, his eyes screwed shut at that particular moment, despite the light peeking through the blinds, livening up the room. He ought to have been in school. He was supposed to be by now. He should have been out there, playing with his friends.

Yet, he barely retained any of his former stamina. The joy for life. The strength. Pain ebbed through his body, flowing through his veins and shifting through his nerves. The disease was making itself more clearly known by the day. It had progressed, the doctors had said. They had feared this would happen. Moved so quickly they never had the time to operate. He'd hesitated too long, apparently. It would require brain surgery too now.

Strange, as it had begun in his legs. Apparently had to do with the bloodstream. That was what the professionals had said, the explanation they had given. He, on the other hand, thought it some unknown's spirit's revenge.

The faint fluttering of wings forced him to open his eyes. The teenager looked up to see a familiar face. A small half-bird was flying right in front of his face, her once colourful feathers now seeming to be nothing more than shades of grey. He smiled weakly, greeting her. "Hello, Baby Tooth," Jamie said. She smiled in return, chirping optimistically back at him, with an excited "hi".

He looked down, his pupils taking in the shape of something within the miniature fairy's hands.

"What is that?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. At that movement, a sharp pain shot through his skull and muscles. He'd almost forgotten about that disease of his.

Tweeting back at the male in front of her, she flew closer to him, before releasing the parchment from her hands. It was a creamy colour, rolled up as if it were an important scroll. Surrounding it was a silvery ribbon, carefully knotted around it to keep it in form. He reached out to it, hesitant. His fingers clasped the scroll, pulling it back, closer to his eyes. Untangling it from the ribbon with care, as he recognised the symbol, one Jack's colours, despite being washed out by his lack of vision, he unravelled it just before his eyes.

He blinked owlishly and though his eyes were closer to tears than they ever had been, he didn't let any escape.

 _Dear Jamie,_

 _if you are reading this letter, then I've failed to deliver the message myself. I know, I'm a wimp. It was supposed to arrive by the end of winter. Too late for that now, huh?_

 _I wish I had longer to tell you. I really do. I never wanted this to end in the way it had._

 _Then again, I would have never guessed that I would come to care for you. Like you. You know, like-like you._

 _You weren't expecting that, were you?_

 _For me to hit on males. Boys, would've been more correct, right?_

 _Well, me neither._

 _Actually, I never felt for you in any other way except in those I would feel towards my best friend. Until last year. But life has to be a Bitch, doesn't it? It took me months to accept these feelings! And now I can't even tell you. Not in the way I wanted to._

 _You're seventeen. You should have been out with your pals, chatting up girls, kissing boys... or whatever you imagined doing now. You shouldn't be... dying._

 _I would've liked to think that maybe... if life wasn't so cruel, that we could have been more. More than friends. Boyfriends. But I have a feeling that you don't feel the same. If only then, you would've been able to reject me in the normal way. That we could laugh about it in the same way friends do after realising that maybe it isn't the best idea to take it that step further._

 _I know... kinda' sounds lame on paper. But those are just my thoughts._

 _And I think that you shouldn't be the one dying._

 _Because I love you, Jamie Bennett._

 _And I hope that before you last close your eyes, you'll know that I will always love you, even when you're gone. I'm not gonna play stupid. I know what they said, you've told me yourself. I won't have the next winter with you. Or the one after that. Or any, for that matter. You'll be gone by summer, I can remember you're words and the tears in your eyes._

 _Were they there because of me? Part of me hopes, but then again, maybe Cupid just hit me too hard in the head._

 _I should end it here. You're probably in pain, or in disgust, just reading this letter._

 _Goodbye Jamie Bennett, know that you're my most beloved believer, the brightest light there was. (And yes, I had to get Tooth to come up with this part)._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Jackson Overland Frost._

In the end, he couldn't hold them in. Overflowing, they flooded his vision, dripping onto the page. The words beneath him slowly blurred out into faint silhouettes, fading out of his line of sight. He sulked and shook his head, he dropped the paper and cradled his head in his hands, grieving.

This wasn't how he wanted it to end.

Not like this.

 _"Don't want Jack Frost nipping and your nose."_

If only Jack could do that. It would have been so much better than this. The skewed form of the little fairy that was still in the room, her little hand slowly reaching out to his shoulder as she became less and less visible, looked over him, seeming like a guardian angel. In a sense, she was. In a sense, so had Jack been. Yet no angel could save their protected from death.

"I do like you Jack," Jamie whispered, his voice fading; croaky and weak. "Like you- like you."

A miserable chuckle erupted from him.

Those would be his last words.

He didn't speak since. Staring into space as the tears had dissipated, he watched on. Visions passing through his mind, before his very eyes they unveiled themselves. Sinking into those colourful memories, he slowly began to drown. He had given in, surrendering to death as he let his past swallow him up.


	2. Lord Shen - Kung Fu Panda

**Shen - Kung Fu Panda**

Takes place in a universe where Shen does _not_ die, after the movie.

 **Heal**

 _Blood fades in time,_

 _as does the wounds it leaves,_

 _but the scars run deep,_

 _the scars and crimson rain_

 _will stain_

 _the snow-white surface beneath._

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 _They leave their marks_

 _on fatal organs,_

 _they set messages_

 _carved in one's heart._

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 _You can pretend you cannot feel_

 _the pain preserved from the past,_

 _but the mask won't last_

 _not forever,_

 _not until the day you finally heal._

 _Fully._

 _Truly._

 _Purely._

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 _But for that, the body needs much more_

 _than plasters, band-aids, bandages._

 _Your heart needs love,_

 _your body needs time,_

 _your soul needs forgiveness._

 _Only then you will truly heal._

 _._

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 **H-O-H**

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He gasped for air in shallow breaths. His chest rose and fall with each gulp, as he savoured the air that finally graced his lungs. He was alive. There was no sweeter relief or more bitter pain than the knowledge of his survival.

Shen moaned in pain, his eyes opening just a slit as he surveyed his surroundings. The burning pain within his muscles would not let go, but he had to ignore it, to focus on a more important task. He had to get away. That's all he knew. What he remembered, of the battle that had been, of the bloodshed he had begun, was that he needed to run now; needed to hide. For who would welcome a monster in their arms?

His pupils strained to see the light dilating to take in more. It was night, though he had half-expected that. That was not what elicited the shock within him.

No, not at all. 'Where in the name of China am I?' he asked himself, confused. No, this was it. The confusion that followed as he turned his head, fighting the pain as he did so (he must have stretched several muscles during Po's attacks... and possibly collected a few bruises, several broken bones here and there), as he saw the landscape surrounding him. This was no city.

This was not Gongmen City. Not at all.

This was a cave. Solid; no, hard and rough would have described it more aptly. Dark too. Almost completely without light, save for the faint illumination of amber provided by the torches. They hung at the sides of the cave, kept in place by metal, possibly iron. Perhaps this once had been a mining shaft. Despite the lack of rails or any traces left after their removal, the possibility still stood. Why else who someone bother with adding lighting? No carts to be found either and deeper into the cave, there didn't seem to be any torches. Yet, someone had to have been here, lived here, to care about adding torches to this drab settlement. Not to mention the blankets. One of which was loosely draped over the peafowl himself.

Looking down at the kind gesture, he angled his head to get a better look at the blanket. Might tell him who had saved him. What sort of animal would dare, or who would have the mercy.

It wasn't fancy; bland would have been a better word. Criss-crossing patterns and cut out squares that had been sown together hinted on the rugs age. It seemed ancient, recycled by someone who had no choice but to make of what they could get their hands on. Whoever it was, could sow too, he noted. It wasn't particularly artistic, but it was fine enough. Whoever had given this to him... didn't have much themselves.

It made him squirm in discomfort. Whether because of guilt or out of some other reason, that he didn't know. He didn't _want_ to know. What he did want to know was why someone like that would save someone like him.

"I see that you're awake," a soft voice spoke.

Maybe the speaker had been gentle, not a threat to his existence. That didn't mean he could trust the creature, the female creature. He backed away, cursing his ailments as he fell on his back, his body too weak to move.

The speaker moved closer, though their steps didn't seem to make much sound. He could see the outlines of her silhouette as she approached him carefully, as one would a wild animal. A dangerous animal. She should be wary too, he thought, he was a dangerous kind of person. Still, it irked him that she dared come closer anyway until she was right in front of him.

And when she finally did, he froze.

The female was wearing a black cloak that effectively covered most of her body. It was coal black, fastened together and held in place with a few robes and the odd button. Nothing spectacular, or posh, but he had expected that. Her talons, those of a bird, protruded from cloak with each step, appearing almost like that of a peafowl. She stood at his full height, perhaps a little taller. Viewing him from above, he caught a glint of pity in her eyes.

He didn't _need_ pity. "Get... away from me," he croaked. His voice failed him, the words not forming quite as well as they should have. Shen knew he sounded pathetic.

"No need to fear me," she reassured him with the same, soft voice from before. She bowed her head. "I only wish to help you."

'I _don't_ need help,' he thought stubbornly as he glowered at the taller figure.

It didn't seem to faze the female avian. "I need to cleanse your wounds," she insisted, as a wing stretched from her cloak, covered by the wide sleeves, reaching out to his own wing. Pull him closer despite his initial reluctance, she overpowered him with ease, before looking down at the damage done. She pressed lightly at one of the muscles.

"Agh!" Shen screeched in pain. "D-don't touch me!"

She sighed. "If I can't touch you," she asked, the spare wing slipping under his chin, "how am I supposed to heal you?"

He squirmed, hissing at her. He didn't care if he was being ungrateful. No one would touch him. He was an emperor! He was royalty. He was...

 _You are nothing._

 _A murder, a thief, an outlaw?_

 _No, you are no more than dust now._

 _You are weak, petty, worthless._

 _You deserve to suffer._

So why then, if he deserved to die - he ought to have died after what Po had done, after what he had done to that stupid panda - was he alive? How had he come to be here, in the wings of someone gentle and caring?

"I found you by the river," the female explained as she traced her feather appendages over his own wings, checking for other injuries. She muttered 'broken', 'sprained', and even 'bruised', a couple of times, other times she would tut at the cuts that lined his flesh and stained the once pristine feathers crimson. "You were unconscious back then and heavily wounded, worse than you are now."

He had a choice now. Listen to her words, or focus on the-

"Ow!" he cried out again. Another breakage, dammit! She murmured a quick apology, sounding flustered for a moment, before getting back to her work. It seemed like a wiser idea to focus on her words after all.

"I'm not sure how you survived it, but I thought it a waste to let someone die. So I took you away from that city, Gongmen, I think it was called, taking you here, to my home. Then, I tended to your wounds. Apologies if the intrusion was unwanted, but you would have died from blood loss otherwise. Besides, having been unconscious for three days, anyone could have gone and finished the job they had begun."

Three days!?

She smiled weakly. "Perhaps it was a good thing too - if you hadn't you probably would have heavily protested against my methods," she murmured, stroking his shoulder absentmindedly.

Not realising that he was still under her touch, he let himself relax in her wings, his eyes closing as she stroked him soothingly. A small part of his mind wandered for a bit, wondering what she could have meant by her 'methods'.

He'd only been reminded of how close she had been after she had stepped away, walking from him.

Blinking owlishly, he found himself befuddled at the lack of pain in his wing. Instead, it felt as though it had never been injured in the first place, though, a few bruises still remained. Otherwise, it was-

Wait... shouldn't the wing have been broken? In several places?

'What has she done?!' the male peafowl freaked out, his feathers twitching in fear. 'What did she do to me?'

Though, when he stood up, to run, he came to realise that she had only managed to heal his arm. The rest of his body betrayed him and he fell over, slumping on the ground. The rest of his body was still very much in pain, relying on her to tend to him. With those 'methods' of her's.

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Eclipse shifted her wings through the sacks of supplies. As she searched for some bandages for the un-healed afflictions that the peafowl still carried on his body, her mind thought back to the night she had found him.

Rightfully, the peafowl should have been dead. Even she knew that.

When she had scanned his body for injuries on that fateful night, she spotted several punctures in his chest. Even his lung had been pierced by one of his broken ribs and the internal bleeding would suffocate him soon enough. It wasn't so much the blood loss. Though the sheer amount of broken bones wasn't helping. If it hadn't been for the curse she had been endowed with since birth, she wouldn't have managed to save him. No other animal could.

Back then, just like now, she could only have healed so much. In order to have enough energy to get herself and him back, she had to work fast and efficiently, using her powers sparingly. She'd healed the punctured lung and a few of the deeper cuts on his abdomen, but there was no chance that she would be capable of healing the rest of him. It was a miracle too, that she had managed to carry the male all the way from Gongmen to her place of residence. That place where freaks belonged, the mountains. Here she tended to his skull injuries, the nerve and bone damage in his spine and the eyes that been narrowly saved from being gouged out of the sockets, or worse. He most certainly didn't look well at all.

Though, she suspected that some of those injuries were older, from years past. What he had done to his body, out of stress, self-hatred and pity. It may have been the exhaustion that had kept him asleep for so long. Though at least she was certain of a heartbeat.

'There it is,' she mused, brushing away the thoughts as she finally spotted the bandages. Most had been used up after she'd used them to stop the blood from leaking out of her guest's body during his stay here, but there were still some left. She would need to change them, hopefully without him protesting too much. She couldn't blame him of course, she wouldn't have trusted a freak like herself either.

Taking them out of the sack, Eclipse grabbed a knife, using it to cut up the bandages. Scissors would have been preferable, but currently unavailable. Being a healer came with a low income, especially with someone like her.

The female walked back, the cloak trailing behind her like a train as she moved. Eyeing the male carefully as he lay on the ground, she stopped in front of him yet again. "I'll have to change your bandages," she simply commented. It served more as a warning though, so that maybe the male would calm down. It could get so frustrating when people ran away from her. Especially when she was only trying to help them.

He seemed to give her a shifty look.

"I just want you to heal. Please...?"

Sighing, he closed his eyes, bracing for the pain that might come. It wasn't that he didn't meet her gentle side yet - he had, he could remember it - but it wasn't that she should have been gentle. She should have been the very opposite and the moment she'd recognise him, she'd likely turn cold towards him. Still, he would let go of his pride if it meant his wings would heal. Holding out his wing, he watched as she changed the bandages, cleaning his wounds, wrapping them and then shifting to the rest of his ailing body.

He couldn't deny it: her touch was rather pleasant. No, _very_ pleasant.

"Despite everything you've done, everything you are," the strange female whispered as she held him now. He was leaning against her chest, too weak and too content in her embrace to move. "Everyone deserves to heal... even you, Shen."

He never reacted, asleep by the time his name slipped out of her mouth, not knowing that she had known of his existence for a long time. She knew who he was, what he'd done and what he could be. If given a second chance, she knew his better side. Even if it hadn't been seen or heard of for more than a decade now. Still, even that bit of goodness was worth fighting for.

 **A/N - That was my O.C. She knew Shen, first meeting him a little time after he had become vengeful, dark and cruel. Though, she knew unlike anyone else, his better side too. Everyone has redeeming characteristics, after all. I hope you don't mind the idea behind this.**


	3. Lies, Fools and Trickery

**Loki - Thor1,2 & Avengers**

 **Lies, Fools & Trickery**

 _Slimy things;_

 _the words I've told,_

 _coiled around_

 _you're alcohol-addled mind._

 _Yet you cease never_

 _to surprise me_

 _with your stupidity._

 _The ideas you bring_

 _to the table_

 _they alone could bring_

 _you to your doom._

 _With that in mind,_

 _dear brother,_

 _why do my lies hurt you so?_

 _When it is your stupidity_

 _that brings you low._

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 **O = C = O**

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Loki Laufeyson could never truly understand the genuine foolishness of his brother's actions. Forgiveness, for instance.

Sitting now on the throne of Asgard, having shifted just seconds ago, he couldn't help but taste the greatness of his clever deceit. Yes, of course, Thor would get suspicious. _Eventually_. With time, given how slow his 'brother' was. For now, he was allowed to curl his lips in a Cheshire-cat grin, as he watched the god of thunder turn around the corner. Probably off to see his precious Midgardian.

There would always be the issue of what would he do if Odin himself found out. However, currently, the king was far from this realm, dealing with other things. As always. Plenty of time for royal duties, but so little time for his family.

 _'Tch, family,'_ Loki thought, miserably.

As far as he was concerned, his family had died the day that Frigga's soul had entered the world of the dead, the world of the afterlife. He shut his eyes, melancholy bringing him close to tears. Oh, what a lonely thing it is, to be the prince of lies and god of trickery. He could lie to everyone, everyone, save Frigga. But she was dead. And that left himself. Him, who he couldn't deceive if he tried.

Of course, there was Thanatos. Speaking of which, he was in deep _shit_ right about now. He'd failed to bring Midgard to their knees, was unable to bring the tesseract - not that he planned to give it to the brute anyway - and only succeeded in killing off the Other's race.

 _'Bravo, Loki. You've really done it this time. This is far worse than that time Thor insulted the giantess,'_ he berated himself, before looking around. _'Now... how to sort out this mess?'_

"Prince Loki?" a small voice asked him. It couldn't have belonged to anyone older than an adolescent and likely a girl. A servant perhaps? Wait- oh, dear Hel.

He stood up, glowering at the female servant in front of him. She was dressed in plain, white clothing, nothing much to be proud of, like most low-class Asgardians, with a nervous look on her face. She should indeed be cautious, he told himself. After all, no one would give out his secrets. He stepped down from the throne, peering into the girl's eyes. Nothing special. Brown, mottled with specks of honey and fear.

"This stays between us, am I understood?" he asked, with a low hiss.

She nodded, shaking a little. Then, she averted her gaze, looking towards the smooth, polished floor instead. It was perhaps, less cold than the prince was at present and a lot less intimidating.

Loki pondered about the situation for a while, measuring the girl with his gaze. Should he leave her be? It was unwise, to leave a potential snitch free. Yet, it would cause chaos within the castle if the young creature was to be found dead on the floor of this palace. He would need to tread carefully - a misstep would send him right back to prison, or worse, to eternal suffering. He'd been warned about this by the Other plenty of times... he did not need a repeat of what had happened back then.

After what had just happened, the last thing he would have expected was to find himself smirking. However, he couldn't help it. The irony of him being the fool for once; letting his guard down, in front of a mere servant. A girl that could end his days.

"Who are you?" he inquired, after a while. "What are you called?"

"A-Alatea, they c-call me Ah-Alatea," she stammered, curtsying a little clumsily, for she almost ended up tripping over her own feet.

"Hmm..." Interesting name. He could swear he'd heard it elsewhere, during past ventures onto Midgard. Spanish, or perhaps Brazilian in origin, he could swear. Some nonsensically religious name. Gods don't exist, he'd learnt that. But back to the name, that name. It had meant truth, didn't it? "Do you believe you are worthy of such a name, my dear Alatea?" Smoothly as he could, he then asked, "or are you willing to go against everything that it is worth and lie...?"

She blinked owlishly as if confused. Sweet, innocent confusion. She didn't even know what her name meant! What was the purpose of Midgardian names then, if the parents who dare bestow then upon their kin didn't even know their meaning, or cared to tell their child of it?

He reached out to the young girl, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but stayed put, holding eye-contact now. Clever her to be wary.

"My dear Alatea, what if I told you that you have a chance for greatness?" he whispered carefully, before tilting his head a little, looking past her shoulder. Thankfully, the coast seemed clear, no soldiers, or intruders in sight. No one was in on this little secret.

"R-really?"

"I could ensure that you wouldn't have to serve again, like this. That you wouldn't have to shy away or bow down to anyone," he promised, emerald green eyes, serpentine eyes, peering into her's, right through her, right into her soul. A mere Midgardian would be easy to lure in.

"N-no...?"

"All you have to do is to do as I tell you..."

Perhaps this little intrusion, perhaps the fact that she'd found him out, isn't such a bad thing after all. More naive than Thor himself, she was as perfect a puppet as he had been to Odin, all these years. Now and only now, would he be able to change that. For this girl knew what happened around the castle and she would surely know the truth. And information brought power. Power over Odin. Power over Thanos.


End file.
